Love Me
by tinkerbell817
Summary: You've ignored me since we first met, Draco Malfoy. Just a pretty little girl your mother made you marry. Maybe it’s selfish, maybe it’s wrong to want so much from someone I barely know, but I want love.


It rained on the night of our wedding, ten years ago now.

A great roiling thundercloud came rolling in just as I slipped into my new white dress robes, my hair and face obscured by a long lacy veil. It wasn't remarked upon by my mother or yours, who clearly cared more about the merger of their families than the possible influence of the weather on my future- our future. For as I stood at the window between the violently blowing curtains, twirling the strand of pearls you'd given me around my fingers, I heard the whispers.

The superstitious biddies who had invaded my room to 'help' prepare me for the wedding cackled about how this storm was an ill omen, pointing to a violent and unlucky marriage for us.

I could have told them that myself, you know.

After Pansy Parkinson's great aunt married her off to Theodore Nott, you needed a new bride. My sister was already betrothed, but I, they decided, was the perfect candidate. And so you courted me. Never once through our pseudo-courtship did you smile at me without prompting from your insistent mother. You did nothing without instructions from someone. I was sent flowers of course, but there were no love letters, no romantic getaways, and no stolen kisses. But it all went according to our mothers' plans. We were seen out in public together, we ate out at fancy restaurants, and you introduced me to your friends, who admired me as they would a new broomstick or owl, without the enthusiasm that those brought.

A contract was drawn up, bound by our signatures before the ink was dry on my Hogwarts graduation certificate. Never once did you show any emotion about the situation, coolly obeying your mother's instructions. For you life simply continued on as usual with your parties and bimbos and friends. I changed nothing.

But I still I hoped.

---

We sat in the big salon downstairs as your mother showed the last of the guests out after a luncheon. You were buried in the Prophet, likely reading about the latest Quidditch scores while I sipped a cup of cold tea across the room from where you sat at your mother's desk, savoring the silence that reigned once your mother's friends had gone. The sunshine coming in through the window warmed my face and that moment was one of the few happy ones I'd had since our relationship had begun three months before.

I was simply sitting there enjoying the sun and silence when your customary bored drawl broke in, "Isn't it about time we got married?"

You didn't even look up from your paper.

Outwardly calm, I set my cup and saucer carefully on the small table before me, cautious not to scrape against the beautiful carved teak that comprised the top.

Brushing my dark blond hair back from my eyes, I looked at you and replied tightly, "Perhaps it is. But you have neither proposed nor do I have an engagement ring, so it doesn't look as if a wedding is forthcoming, does it?"

You arched an elegant eye-brow, folded your paper with a snap, "Easily remedied." You pulled a small box from the desk drawer and walked over to me, "I believe this will satisfy one of your requirements."

Nestled in the box was a gorgeous diamond ring, set in platinum. The metal reflected dully in my eyes, as you continued mockingly, "Now will you marry me, Astoria?"

Looking up into your icy blue eyes, I saw nothing. No warmth, or happiness, or love.

"Of course, Draco." I answered my voice steady as I sealed my fate.

And still I hoped for love.

---

Our wedding went smoothly despite the dire prophecy of those nosey old crones. You and I were a picture perfect couple as we posed in the Malfoy ballroom for the picture that would grace our wedding announcement on the society page of the daily prophet.

If my smile was tight, and your grip on my hand looked a little uncertain, well then I was nervous about the party arrangements and we were newlyweds, not yet used to each other. The reception was THE event of the season, with everyone who was anyone in British Wizarding society there to wish us well.

There were copious amounts of flowers, tastefully arranged on each available surface, tied with shiny gold ribbon. Fairy lights adorned the small potted trees that dotted the edge of the room. It was all, outwardly, perfect.

But as my mother imbibed too much champagne and began laughing shrilly at the slightest provocation, and Pansy Nott nee Parkinson glared daggers at me from across the room, you began to fidget, rushing through the formalities of cutting the lavish eight tier cake, and our first dance, and the toasts.

And I counteracted your plans, moving slower, taking time to talk to the people that neither of us wanted to spend time with.

All to put off being alone.

But I shouldn't have worried. For instead of coming to me in the room of the hotel suite you'd hired for us in Paris, as I had feared you would, you spent the night quietly on the couch in the sitting room. I sat that night, staring out at the light that burned in the sitting room, feeling unwanted in the fancy lingerie my friends had bought me.

Then, I desired love.

What a contradiction.

---

You didn't come to me that night. But eventually our marriage progressed normally and I found myself holding a small wriggling bundle, who stared up at me with ice blue eyes. We named him Scorpius Hyperion.

What an ominous name for such a little personage, squalling at his house elf nurse for food.

He laughed, he played, he grew.

He had your nose.

Oh, how you adored him. Even as I envied him.

You asked after him every day at dinner, smiling broadly at the mention of his latest exploit, grinning back at the sight of his first tooth and crowing delightedly when he said "Da". I dutifully reported to you, the only time you spoke to me usually, preferring to eat in silence.

Our baby grew and we lavished attention on him.

And I began to long for another to make you pay attention to me. Another baby for us to love, for you to become protective over as I carried him, another baby to make you bring me breakfast in bed, and come to healer's visits with me.

I longed for another baby.

Mostly I longed for love.

That was how this whole mess started.

---

I showered twice before dinner, trying to get the antiseptic smell of the Healer's office off of me. I dressed carefully in a green dress you admired, the cool silk sliding comfortably over my skin.

Down the grand staircase of black and white marble, I walked slowly, carrying little Scorpius on one hip. You stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for us. Your face lit up as usual at the sight of your heir, but you frowned at me slightly as you took him into your arms.

Roasted lemon pepper chicken with white rice and sautéed vegetables, normally a favorite of mine, tonight it was particularly hard to digest as your mother chattered about some playdate or other she had arranged for Scorpius.

You were more silent than usual.

After dinner, Narcissa went to tuck a sleepy little Malfoy into his nursery bed.

You raised an eyebrow in question after a moment of uncomfortable staring, "Astoria, is something wrong?"

I looked at you silently, and saw there in those blue eyes so much lighter than my own something I'd never seen before. Concern. Curiosity. Love.

Love?

"Astoria… Dearest?" You prompted softly, moving closer.

Looking at you then I softly whispered, "She's gone."

"Gone?" You repeated in anguish, "Oh, Astoria!"

Your arms went around me then and I surrendered myself to you willingly, "The healer said. A miscarriage, some sort of scarring left from when I had Scorpius."

"It will be ok." You murmured comfortingly as I shook silently, the shock of it finally getting to me, "We'll be fine, love."

"What did you call me?" I asked quietly, sometime later.

You looked down at me uncomprehendingly, "What?"

"Earlier, what did you call me?" I repeated, hopefully.

You blushed a little, pink lighting up your normally pale skin, "Love."

"Love?" I parroted, befuddled.

You quirked that hated eyebrow, "Of course. I do love you, Astoria."

"Really?" at your nod, I hesitantly replied, "I love you too, Draco."

"Of course you do." You smirked again.

I found love.


End file.
